Tuesdays with a Twist
by life among the dead
Summary: "You two in a gay bar,it had to happen sooner or later." Callen and Sam are surveiling a target in a Gay club, and find the best way to blend in is to get up-close and personal...with each other. Rated M to be Safe. G/Sam Densi


They had rock-paper-scissored for the assignments. Well Kensi and Callen had since Deeks had flatly refused to play with Sam again since he swore the man cheated. No-one was particularly sure who had "won" versus "lost", but the end result had Kensi and Deeks running surveillance and back-up from the car while Callen and Sam would be stationed inside the club.

"You two in a gay bar," Deeks crowed, grinning in his infuriatingly charming way. "It had to happen sooner or later."

Callen and Sam exchanged a look before the former remarked, breezily, "What makes you think this is our first time?"

Sam grinned at Deeks, and the partners strode away to wardrobe.

Deeks stood with his mouth open for a moment, struggling to find an appropriate response, and then wisely decided to leave the whole thing untouched. He turned, instead, to Kensi and waggled his eyebrows in mock flirtation.

"So you and me in a darkened car?!"

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Of course I was looking forward to you being my hag," he added.

She affected innocence. "Oh if we had drawn the bar I would have been a lesbian. More familiarity." Then strode past him as he imitated a fish for the second time in as many minutes.

* * *

Sam sat in a high-backed booth against the far wall where he had a fair view of the dance floor, the bar, and the private lounge area on the raised dais. He was wearing a red silk shirt rolled up his forearms, the collar open revealing the hollow of his throat. The black leather jacket Hetty had issued him was draped over the edge of the table, a signal to his partner that their target had not yet been sighted.

Callen didn't acknowledge Sam as he stepped between the knots of gathered men, some chatting pleasantly to each other, some shirtless and sweaty from the dance floor, and headed to an empty seat at the bar. He allowed himself to look though, for just a moment longer than necessary, because, frankly, who wasn't looking at Sam. He was all muscle and smooth skin and coiled, dangerous energy, and it was what kept the onlookers away even as they salivated into their drinks. Callen scanned the rest of the harmless crowd and wondered if any of the lawyers, or ad-execs, or college students had enough courage to approach the dark sex-appeal that menaced the booth.

"You might want to smile a little, Sam," he said, as he slid onto a bar stool and ordered a beer. "You're supposed to be here for a reason."

"I am here for a reason."

"Yes, and "catching a potential arms-dealer" is what's written on your face."

Over the ear piece Callen could hear the small smile creeping into Sam's deep voice. "And that's a good reason why I don't want to attract company."

"Is that the reason?" Deeks piped up mischievously.

Callen ducked his head and grinned, then took a swallow of beer. "I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt to make yourself a little more appealing."

This time the smile was bigger. "I don't need help picking up someone in a bar, G."

"And that is a conversation for another time, boys," Kensi interrupted, "because Quideros just arrived."

There was a palpable change in the dynamic of the group.

Outside the club a ripple went through the roped off line of people as they angled to see who was climbing out of the shiny black limousine, and then who was walking in the center of the wall of muscle. Quideros was not a big man, but he walked like one that knew his own power. The three giant bodyguards - all of different nationalities judging by their coloring - only succeeded in making the man look smaller and thinner, but their presence also made him a mystery... and a mystery with money. Consequently he did not want for attention as he entered the club and was escorted to a private seating area behind a velvet rope. The entourage passed behind Callen on their way and he overheard "champagne" and "company".

"Sounds like he's planning to stay a while," Callen informed his team.

"Maybe his contact is meeting him here," Kensi speculated, settling back behind the wheel of the car once again.

"Pretty understanding contact," Deeks replied. "Arms dealer and gay bar are not exactly synonymous."

"Hopefully that'll make him easier to spot," Sam remarked.

"Yeah. He'll look as uncomfortable as Sam," Callen quipped.

"Not uncomfortable! Not looking for twinkie company."

Kensi coughed. "Twinkie, Sam?"

"Don't you start."

* * *

The music was just a continuous background noise, one song no more obvious than the next, all chosen simply for the beat that would keep the gyrating mass on the dance floor. Their progressively more frenzied motion had increased the heat in the club, and Callen had begun to wish he could chug the ice-cold beer rather than nurse it for appearances only. He surreptitiously placed the inside of his wrist against the cold glass, and hoped Quideros' contact would arrive soon or that the arms-dealer would hook-up with someone and leave so that the NCIS team could call it a night. It was becoming increasingly hard to remain inconspicuous sitting alone at the bar, and as if on cue…

"What are you drinking?"

Callen turned towards the owner of the voice and smiled his brush off. "Thanks but I'm covered." He tipped the beer bottle by the neck for emphasis.

"Then I'll just have to find another way to earn your gratitude."

The other three agents didn't see the winning, slightly desperate, smile that accompanied the statement, but Deeks still drew out a very over-emphasized, "Wow!"

He was not bad looking, Callen decided; a couple of inches shorter than himself, white skin, brown hair that just curled against the tops of his ears. He still wore his shirt, and that was becoming increasingly unusual as the evening progressed.

Callen tried a polite smile. "Maybe next time."

The man cocked his head to one side in a way Callen was fairly sure he practiced in the mirror so as to perfect the balance between coy and sly. "You're waiting for someone?"

"I am." It wasn't a lie. And you're blocking my view of him!

The stranger had taken up a position pretty much dead center of the private lounge and as Callen shifted to see around him, he swayed a little closer effectively blocking any view of Quideros and Callen's escape route.

"So what can I do to make you forget him and come home with me?"

Callen actually pulled back a little in surprise. Had it really been so long since he done this that the pick-up dance had changed so much?

He knew instinctively if he moved position the stranger would follow him, unaware that that would take his carefully constructed act from aggressive to desperate, so the agent swung towards him instead.

The brown eyes lit up in triumph.

"Thank you for the compliment," Callen said, speaking clearly and looking him dead in the eye. "But I'm not interested."

He paused for a moment, apparently considering Callen's words, and then smiled and shrugged. "You'll come around. I can wait." Then he took up residence on the stool beside the agent... Still blocking most of Callen's view.

"It's never going to happen," he said more sharply.

"Then I am going to wait and see who this man is that I can't compete with."

Callen turned his head so that his companion couldn't see his lips move as he murmured, "I can't shake him from my eyeline."

Sam's voice immediately responded. "I'm coming."

* * *

Callen knew the moment Sam arrived because the stranger's eyes grew huge in his head. He felt a pang of sympathy, the man was only trying to make a connection after all, it was just his bad luck that he had picked an undercover NCIS agent to hit on….and one with a partner whose shoulders would fill a doorway.

Sam stopped behind him - Callen could feel him at his back - and even though he made no move to touch G it was obvious to the stranger... to all around, that he considered the seated man his.

"Go away," was all he said, low and definitive, and the stranger was sliding off the stool and scurrying away, probably thankful he had escaped with his life.

Callen felt inordinately happy as he turned to face his looming partner, a smile on his face. God Sam was a good looking man. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

G cocked an eyebrow, looking the big man up and down. "Are you going to sit?"

"I think I should since I just scared away your suitor."

"He didn't stand a chance," Callen spoke up, playfully. "Not my type."

"You have a type?"

"Tall, dark…" His eyes swept up and down again, "…and packing."

"Do you two remember we're on coms?" Deeks asked. "'Cause if you need some privacy Kens and I can change channels for a while!"

The two men ignored him, locked at the eyes.

There was movement behind Sam and the adjacent stool came empty so he perched on the edge of it and smiled at G for all the world as if they were just two guys in a bar picking each other up.

"Now why do I have to lose my eyeline?" Callen queried, now that his back was to Quideros and his entourage.

Sam's smile widened. "You'd never be able to see 'round me, G."

And wasn't that the truth… and didn't it spike Callen's awareness just that bit higher.

The bartender appeared with a swipe of damp cloth and a paper napkin. "What's your pleasure?"

Sam allowed his lips to curve and a glow of interest light his eyes as he openly appraised Callen from head to toe. "I think I'm looking at it."

The bartender quirked a brow, the slight smile said he had heard similar lines before... but surely not said in such a smooth growl.

Callen felt himself flush, heat washing his body. He tried to remind himself this was just another undercover Op but it was hard with Sam looking at him like that. As he tried for a calming breath, Sam leaned in to his space, close enough to inhale the heady scent of him, close enough to brush his sleeve against Callen's arm... and swiped his drink. Eyes still glued on G's, he took a swallow of the warming liquid & replaced the bottle.

"I'll have what he's having."

The bartender shot a look between the two men who only had eyes for each other, prepped the drink, and slipped away.

"Playing it a little heavy, aren't you?" Callen asked, when they were once again alone.

"Who's playing?"

Callen's mouth went dry. He flicked his tongue out to wet his lower lip and Sam's eyes followed the motion.

"If you guys could spare a minute to check on the bad guys, the two people trapped in the car w/ no alcohol or flirting would appreciate it," Deeks sarcasm came brightly over the comms.

Callen welcomed the interruption as he was beginning to feel decidedly trapped in his clothing.

Sam twitched a brow at his partner but spoke to the other man. "Since when is there no flirting in your car, Deeks?"

"Since I threatened him with some backseat action if he doesn't learn some verbal boundaries!" Kensi retorted, and the men could virtually hear the screech of her mental brakes as she realized how that had sounded. "Okay so that was not..."

"It's too late, Princess, that is out there now," Deeks crowed.

"Can we retain some radio silence please?!" She all but yelled.

Callen figured that verbal slip would keep the agent and the detective busy for a while as one tried unsuccessfully to ignore the pointed smile of the other, so he was once again the sole focus for Sam's dark gaze.

"Did Hetty pick out that shirt?"

Callen looked down at the dark blue fabric with the subtle brown and white stripes running vertically through it. "Doesn't she always?"

"She has good taste."

Callen looked at him, sensing a sub-text.

Sam offered a small, unfairly sexy smile. "It's a good color for you."

The air heated between them.

"Thirty minutes in a gay bar & they've turned him!" Deeks joked in their collective ears.

"Shut up, Deeks," he returned mildly, his eyes never leaving Callen's.

The intensity of it was making G sweat.

Sam reached for his beer with his right hand and let the left fall onto Callen's knee. His partner raised an eyebrow at him but neither man removed it.

"We're being watched," he said, mildly, returning the bottle to the bar.

At the flick of his partner's eyes, Sam tipped his head to his left. "Not Quideros… Nine O'clock."

Across the club, hanging at the edge of a raucous group of twenty-somethings that were draped across three tables, a dark-skinned man with his t-shirt hanging out of his back pocket kept stealing poorly disguised looks in their direction.

"The contact?" Kensi asked.

"Not unless they're recruiting from the local gym," Callen replied, looking back at his partner. "He only has eyes for Sam."

Sam returned the look. "And what makes you think he's not looking at you?"

As he spoke his hand began to move, making slow, sensuous, ever-increasing circles on the outside of Callen's leg. At first there was barely enough pressure to register the movement, it was simply the rotation of Sam's shoulder and the repetitive shush of skin on denim, but Callen was mesmerized by both. They pushed the other sounds and smells and movements into a foggy background world. Then Sam added a slight pressure on the downward stroke, and Callen had to open his mouth to breath.

"Now come on ladies, you're both pretty," Kensi said.

"Maybe it's the two of you together," Deeks added. "You do make a fabulous couple!"

Sam slipped his hand off Callen's thigh and fastened it on the inch of stool beneath it. "Yes we do." He rose up from his own seat and leaned over his partner.

"What are you doing?" Callen mouthed, unwilling to let their coworkers hear the hitch in his breathing.

"Staking my claim." Sam's mouth was so close to G's ear he could feel the movement of Sam's lips as he spoke. "We don't want another interruption to our surveillance."

"Then you'd better make it good."

Sam's predatorial smile made G instantly regret his words. The dark hand gripping the back of Callen's exposed neck had his temperature skyrocketing.

The first touch of Sam's lips were an electric shock to Callen's system that arched through every nerve ending and earthed at his crotch. He felt himself jump involuntarily, and Sam's strong hand gripped a little tighter at his nape. He removed his mouth long enough to whisper, "Easy," into his ear, before reapplying the featherlight brushes to the sensitive skin beneath.

"Sam..."

"You'll give us away," he warned.

But whether he meant to the watching stranger, Quideros, or to Kensi & Deeks, Callen never figured out. He couldn't hold a thought in his head long enough. God the things Sam's lips were doing to his skin; the puffs of warm breath raising goose bumps; the soft nip of his mouth; the brush of his lips; a coarse swipe of his tongue. Callen's nerves were thrumming.

"Is he...is he still...mmm... watching?"

Callen felt Sam's head tip, smooth jawline rubbing against his own day old stubble.

"Maybe," he answered.

"Maybe?!" It came out more of a gasp as a tongue swiped up the shell of his ear before teeth grazed his lobe.

"Trust me."

Sam sucked; G's body shuddered and pressed up. Up towards the mouth and the hands, towards the delicious friction of a hard thigh between his own. He was lost and he knew it, but they were Sam's hands so he couldn't bring himself to care.

Callen's own hands, meanwhile, were clenched into a fist resting on his thigh, and gripping the neck of the beer bottle so hard it was rattling on the bar surface. He forced his hand to release it before it shattered, and instead, snaked his fingers up between their bodies to grasp the front of Sam's shirt. He was rewarded by a moan of approval against his neck that very nearly undid him. The other hand tried to rest casually on his partners forearm, but the strain of supporting its owners weight was making the muscles jump and ripple beneath the surface and the affect had Callen's hand kneading the taut flesh.

Sam hummed his pleasure against Callen's neck and another jolt of desire tightened every cord and nerve in his body. Then the bigger man shifted and Callen's body was all awareness.

"Quideros is still drinking $500 bottles of champagne," Sam reported, looking over Callen's shoulder at the private lounge area the arms dealer and his bodyguards occupied. "Looks like he's getting some company. Cute... If you like skinny and underage."

Callen didn't think he could manage casual at that moment, but he needed to see the target if only to regain a little perspective. He could feel his body trembling as he twisted his stool towards the bar, and cut his eyes towards terrorist corner. The Twink newcomer was blonde and definitely underage, but he carried himself with an awareness of his own sex appeal that Callen thought bordered on dangerous. Quideros was definitely interested, judging by the way he sat up and shifted on the couch, but making room for the boy was a waste of time as the lithe young body practically slid into the older man's lap. Quideros took that moment to look up and lock eyes with Callen.

Foggy with unrequited desire, it took too long for the agent to react and he was a moment from being made when Sam's hand snatched G's chin up and around, and forced his face close. To anyone watching it looked like a possessive man asserting his dominance.

"You trying to get us made, G?"

"He still watching?"

Sam's eyes flicked over his shoulder. "Not with a lap full of that," he muttered, then leaned forward.

"I don't think this is a meet," Callen replied, trying for 'normal' despite the fact Sam still had his chin pinched between thumb and forefinger.

"The intel was good," Kensi replied.

"Maybe they're going somewhere after?" Deeks offered.

Sam's gaze had dropped to his partner's mouth while the conversation progressed, and now he dragged the pad of his thumb across the tender flesh as he spoke. "I'm not ready to give this up yet."

Callen's stomach flipped. "I say we stay. Tail him when he leaves."

Sam wet his own lips, still fixated on Callen's mouth, and if G hadn't been half-hard before that would have been the tipping point.

"So we stay," he replied, and his partner's gaze jerked up to his.

Kensi and Deeks sounded less enthused but by then it didn't matter. Sam was once again leaning into Callen's space, a hand resting on the low back of the stool, the other holding Callen's face immobile. Slowly, so slowly, too slowly, he leaned in, eyes dark and intense, focused on the mouth beneath him. But at the last moment he turned Callen's head, tasted the rough skin of his jaw instead of his pliant lips, and Callen wasn't sure whether the noise that escaped him was one of frustration or pleasure. He could hear Sam's rough breathing, could feel the hard press of his thigh between Callen's own, hindered from closer contact - the contact they both wanted - by the edge of the stool. Oh God, they were in a public place. They were on an official investigation!

"Are...oh...are they still...mmhg... Are they still watching?"

"Definitely!"

"Have you thought...uh...umm...this might beeee... might be counterproductive?"

That time Callen felt the smile against his skin and the hand that had moved from chin to throat moved down to thigh.

"Not really."

"Sam!" Callen forced his body to react in a way that wasn't sexual - which hurt more than getting shot! - and placed his hands on Sam's shoulders, pushing up.

The dark eyes pivoted to him and Callen pitched his voice low enough that Kensi and Deeks couldn't hear... He hoped. "We're drawing attention to ourselves."

Sam nodded his consideration...let his eyes flick to their target...and replaced his lips on Callen's ear. "They're watching again."

Despite himself G arched up into the touch. "At least they won't be able to ID our faces."

Sam's hand slid up over Callen's leg and pushed against the muscled flesh of his inner thigh, inching higher with every taste and stroke of his mouth. In Callen's mind the two things blurred, and suddenly it was his thigh that Sam was tasting, the quivering flesh there that the rough tongue swept against. Sam's hand pushed even further between Callen's thighs, his fingers virtually brushing the crease of his ass. He was on fire, so hard the bite of denim at his crotch was a secondary pain to the desire pulsing in his cock. The flex of dark fingers was almost too much.

"Sam!" His voice was pleading, warning as he grabbed his partner's wrist to still the erotic motion. "I have to be able to walk!"

His partner opened his mouth to respond but his manner abruptly changed.

"And soon. Looks like they're leaving," his tone was obscenely businesslike after the way he had been touching G for the last 10 minutes.

"Which door?" Kensi's voice.

Concentrate on Kensi's voice. On the mission. Not on the way your body is humming... About to explode.

Callen tipped his head back and blew out a calming breath.

"Looks like they're taking the back exit," Sam was talking more to Kensi & Deeks in the car. "Come round to the alley & follow them. We'll get the car."

"We're on it."

Sam stood and looked down at his partner. "You with me, G?"

"Always."

Sam smiled and let Callen precede him through the crowd. If they were seen to be moving a little quickly well they wouldn't be the first couple in a hurry to leave together; one a little flushed, the other exuding proprietary rights.

As they neared the front door, the crowd thinning, Sam reached out suddenly for Callen's arm, dragging him back and spinning him round.

Callen didn't even have time to look for the impending danger before Sam's mouth crushed down on his in a hot, fast kiss. The second later Callen was blinking up at him in surprise, breath refusing for a moment to return.

"I'm not finished yet," Sam growled.

A promise or a threat G wasn't sure but the proprietary note in Sam's impossibly low voice was enough to make his knees weak.

"Sam? Callen?" Kensi's tight voice spoke directly into their ears. "They have a car. Speed it up or you're going to lose your guy!"

Sam gave Callen a private smile. "Already on it."

His partner smiled back and they ran out the door.


End file.
